Oblivion
by Courtanie
Summary: Kenny is waiting for Kyle to see him, so he can share just what it is he's feeling and their fates can finally intertwine.


_**A/N: omg hi. This is the first thing I have written in over a year so be gentle please. (Actually you can tear me to shreds. I probs need the criticism) loveugoodbai**_

_**Inspired by Creepypasta stories. (I tried to follow their style. How'd I do?)**_

You all may not remember me so much, yet I remember you. Only ten years ago since we had last seen each other to my recall. Those years have dripped on, spatters of ink going unnoticed by myself as you each continued to write your own stories.

Yet I see you daily, watching from a distance at times. Though there are moments where my face is mere inches from yours in the night. My haggard, foul breath pulsating back off of your warm skin. My torn, stained fingers tracing along bedspreads in the dark. There are many days where I stand until you awake in the morning, still staring down on you as you shift and groan in the pressures of the new dawn. There are times when I wish you could see me. You could see what I had become, where you left me off, assuming merely that everything was just a continuous cycle in life and death.

I wish you could see you are wrong.

My remaining bloodshot eye often follows you, throughout the classroom, your home, your life. Perhaps trying to tear new walls down in the process. Leaning down over your shoulders, dragging my broken fingernails up over your arms ever so softly. Ever so softly. You shudder as a chill descends down your spine and in turn, I bite at my chapped, blue lips in euphoric realization that I do still exist, you just may not know it yet.

I can recall several times where you have been near seeing me. A soft gasp in the night as you stared directly into my eye, a selfish, gleaming grin no doubt spreading over my Chelsea-Smile cheeks. Only to realize that you had caught your own reflection behind me, you sift back down into bed with a relieved sigh, covering yourself in the heavy comforter and beginning to breathe the soft, heavy wisps of sleep.

I've never been angry at you for not seeing me. How could I expect you to? At well past teenage years, you've evolved past the lore of spooky stories of the Boogeyman. But I don't see how you can completely block me from your memories.

You saw me once. Only once. But I nearly gargled out a joyous scream when your fearful eyes met mine. I remember clearly, you were thirteen at the time. Your mouth bobbed up and down and up and down, like a guppy just waiting for the hook.

"Kenny?" you whispered, shivering, oh how you did shiver!

I extended to you what I could of my severed arm and tried to speak, only a bubble of blood spurting from my mouth and the gash in my throat. I managed to gargle out a remnant of your name, Kyle. And I know you remember it. I know you remember how you clawed back on your mattress, red hair stuck to your face with sickly sweat. The moonlight accentuating your most fragile features, as I'm sure it did mine as well. I limped closer to you and could hear the tiniest of whimpers escape past the gnarl in your throat.

You screamed, oh how you screamed for your parents. "Mom! Dad! It's Kenny! Oh God, Mom!" You howled once my mutilated fingers touched the bare flesh of your leg. You felt warm, you felt like I remembered, like how I used to be. I closed my eye in a brief moment of pure ecstasy, remembering how deliciously wonderful it must be to be into pure, unaltered flesh once again. Your parents came bursting into the room as you continued to scream, trying to move away. But you couldn't. A part of you didn't want to.

I could feel it in your blood.

I looked up slowly at your parents as they tried desperately to calm you down. They couldn't see me, of course they couldn't. But your little brother could. He caught glimpse of me and blanched, reeling back and screaming towards his room. I could only choke out a subtle laugh at that. I didn't need Ike, Kyle.

I needed you.

I looked back at you, clenching around your mother's waist and burying your face towards her stomach, crying out still. You snuck one look at me, I smiled at you, and your pupils all but disappeared, no doubt seeing my one tooth, sharp and curling back up into the roof of my mouth, nothing but a chasm of black leading up into my face. Your parents ripped you from my touch and hurried you out of the room. I sat in there and waited for you.

I waited for you for days, on your bed. I did nothing but listen to your clock on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Nothing but the oblivion that is time to keep me company. I could have followed you more, of course. But I couldn't have them take you away to be locked up. Not anything like that. I needed you close, but comfortable with where you are. I want you safe. I want you protected and observed by myself.

Only myself.

You came back days later, I could hear that you had slept on the couch in the well-lit living room after a few days of intensive consoling. I perked as your door opened and grinned bloodily in excitement. You walked in, closed the door, and looked around, smirking to yourself. Your eyes passed over, but you couldn't seem to make heads or tails of me. The smile on my lips faded, my cheeks stretching from the tear marks. I moved around a bit, even so much as to clumsily fumble up to you as I did so often and stare you in the face, breathing heavily, my throat gurgling and spouting blood.

It passed right through you.

You sighed, turning off your light and walking right through me to your bed. I was astonished. I was upset.

I was furious.

So here now I stand, as you are well past twenty and living with Stan in your own apartment. I followed you across the country. Drifting behind the air of your car, my figure hunched over as I floated along the interstate, my one eye narrowed as comfort was left, memories were pushed away.

My memory, however, is one to never be forgotten. The one day where you sealed my fate, where you sealed your own.

The memory of the day you stopped believing I would come back.

You thought I was gone for good now, that it was only sprouting adolescence playing tricks on your fragile mind.

Yet here I remain, here I stay. Here I wait.

One day, mortality will be but a fleeting moment of thought, but I'll be there. I'll wait and stand over you. My rancid, torn mouth gaping down at you, my bloody eye socket staring deep into your soul, my broken nails once again touching your flesh.

On that day, I will let you experience mortality with me. The day you let me die will come flying back into you as the memory of the twisted metal that brought me to my ultimate, bloody fate. And upon that, you will experience the same pain that I did. People will gather around your broken, bleeding body. Tears will fall, panic will rise. But none of it will matter to you. I'll hold you. We'll become one and the same. Together we will go through the proceedings, and fall into the afterlife as one entity in two bodies. We will stand together, bleeding, bones crushed and parts missing.

I am your watchful guardian for now.

I touch your red hair with a ragged bone of my finger and smile. Hunched over you and forever gazing distantly into your for-now purified face. I will protect you for what I can until your time has finally arrived.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Drip.

_**Thanks for R&R! :)**_


End file.
